


Tainted

by SeriouslySirius9



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Thor (Movies)
Genre: Asgard, Clones, Eventual Smut, F/M, Loki - Freeform, Magic, OFC - Freeform, f/m - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-02
Updated: 2018-07-02
Packaged: 2019-06-01 11:07:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 21,915
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15141749
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SeriouslySirius9/pseuds/SeriouslySirius9
Summary: For centuries Ravyn has lived alone, outliving all of those she cares about. Born with magical abilities, she is apart of a race that would never accept her true self. All she wants is to find another human that shares her gifts. However, when she runs into Loki, she finds herself wishing for the solitude of ignorance once more. AU





	1. Chapter 1

The white, crystalline puffs of snow glided graceful from the mourning grey skies. Each tiny fleck glimmered as it dusted each surface with a frozen sorrow, chilling the dead graves beneath it. The worn headstones stood in perfectly asymmetrical lines, weaving in and out like tiny mountain tops. Hundreds of years of abandonment eroded away the engravings until the stones bore only faint memories of the names that once lived there. In the very back, tucked neatly away from the shivering souls stood the old, but less worn mausoleum. 

This particular building had been constructed some time after the mass of graves were placed, around a couple hundred years. It was made of swirling grey and black marble stone, standing harshly out against the white world around it. Stone flowers budded from the intricate celtic carvings that wove themselves around the entrance. A few words arched themselves over the wrought iron doors.  _ Getur verið að þú ferðast í móður friði. _ The deeply carved lettering seemed almost fresh and new compared to the rest of the stones, where a curious black cat had carefully darted through. 

It’s green eyes flicked over each stone as it weaved in and out of the frigid yard, leaving the small foot prints that would soon be covered by the falling snow. It found its position within the mausoleum where a small altar laid dormant, kicked over on its side towards the back of the enclosure. It carefully dodged the broken beer bottles and old lighters that littered the floor and  slowly curled up beneath the fallen rock. It peered out, attentively watching as the only other living being to venture into the overgrown maze made her way through the dead. 

Ravyn Blackwood was by far the youngest looking thing in this graveyard with the flawless, porcelain complexion of a 20-year-old. She towered over the cold stones, sneering at them from her elevated status. She let out an icy breath as she passed a group of several unmarked headstones. Scowling, she stopped in front of them to kick a mixture of snow and dirt in their direction. The tainted snow scattered from her boot to her intended targets, creating angry brown imperfections in the snow. Ravyn hated this place. She  _ hated _ the idea of all these unoccupied graves just being placemarks for the mass of bodies buried towards the entrance of the infernal place. 

She flicked a silky dark brown ringlet of hair over her shoulder as she continued her walk to the marble structure, her boots crunching harshly in the snow. Reaching her destination she let out a breath of disgust at the sight before her. The lock to the gate seemed to have been busted, completely twisted into itself, otherwise  _ completely useless. _ Broken glass covered the ground in shattered fragments of brown and blue. Papers and lighters were strewn about, abandoned without a second thought. The place absolutely  _ reeked  _ of smoke and fornication. 

“ _ Disgusting,” _ Ravyn hissed, crunching the glass under her heavy boots. She positively vibrated with anger at the actions of some, no doubt, teenage feins destroying her mother’s  lovely resting place. However, thinking about her mother’s grave only enraged her more since where Ravyn stood wasn’t the true resting place of her mother. No, her body laid entangled within the hundreds of slaves that were dumped away. She wasn’t even given a proper headstone, let alone the customary viking funeral that should have been her deathrite. Instead, after meticulous planning and designing, Ravyn had this rather expensive mausoleum erected in her mother’s honor. 

Gracefully, Ravyn waved her hand over the bits of glass, watching them shimmer then fade from existence. She did not stop until the entire expanse of the room was scourged of the disrespectful material and the only imperfection to be seen was the alter in the corner of the room. Her steps echoed off the walls as she walked over and bent down to assess the damage. Ravyn was startled when two wide green eyes not unsimilar to her own peered up at her from the fallen stone. For the first time since she entered the graveyard, a smile ghosted Ravyn’s lips. 

“Well, look what we have here? You’ll freeze if you stay out here.” She carefully picked up the stone and placed it back in its place. Staring down at the black ball of fur she could could see its neck was bare of a collar, or any other type of marking indicating that it had a home. 

“Hmm, no owner. You must be a clever little thing to make it through the Icelandic winters for so long…”

The black cat suddenly bound from under her gaze until it lept out the door. Ravyn sighed and slowly stood.  _ Even a cat knows I’m bad news.  _ She walked gingerly over to the frigid stone body jutting the slab in the center of the room. This is where her mother should be- that is if she must be in the ground. Staring down at the carving Ravyn all at once couldn’t remember if she had even come on the right day. It was becoming increasingly difficult for her to remember as the years droned on. The 23rd, or the 22nd? January, or December? Hell, the anniversary of that horrid battle could have been in March for all she knew. It didn’t really matter in the long run though. The skies would still be grey, the stones would still be cold, her mother’s grave would still lie empty, and her mind would still be tainted by the memories of that day. 

“Mother,” her voice came out in barely a whisper, “Mother, you once told me I was special, but what’s the point? I’ve lived hundreds of lifetimes only to watch everyone around me die at the fatal hands of time. There’s no one on this blasted planet who has a  _ fraction _ of the power I do, even the so called witches.” She paused briefly as a small shudder wracked her body. In that moment Ravyn felt absolutely ancient. 

“I don’t understand why I’m like this, but I’m just so tired, mother... “ Her fingers reached out to caress the stone face of her mother. But it wasn’t her mother. It would  _ never  _ be her mother. A single tear dropped from Ravyn’s cheek onto the marble and she quickly wiped it away before turning to go. She dragged herself to the entrance and set her stare to the sky, shaking her head slightly. Without hesitation she bent down and placed her hand on the snowy ground. Warmth radiated from her hand as her magic seeped from her body, covering the cemetery in lush green grass. Purple irises bloomed all around the mausoleum and the grey expanse was quickly transformed with dotting bits of brilliant color. 

Ravyn stood to go but barely made it a few steps before she felt something weaving between her legs. Looking down, she saw the black cat from earlier was nuzzling her ankles. She let out a soft chuckled and rubbed it behind the ears. 

“And here I thought you left me.” It meowed lazily back at her. 

Outside the cemetery, the snow blurred through the trees. A storm was surely on the verge of whipping through the small forested area. She looked down at the small furry creature and sighed, scooping it from where it was. It meowed in protest at being held but Ravyn payed it no mind. 

“This would all be so much easier if you would stay still.” Almost immediately the cat stopped squirming. It turned its head in order to narrow its eyes at Ravyn. Quite the smart creature indeed. That only fueled Ravyn’s decision to take it with her.

“Now, I’ve never done this with a cat before. Hopefully you won’t explode,” Ravyn quipped with a smirk. Before the cat was able to jump from her strong grip they were gone with a pop, once again leaving the graveyard empty. 

 

They appeared once more in a moderately sized living room. The black cat immediately jumped from her arms onto the cherrywood floors below. The house had a nice thin layer of dust coating it's fine furniture and floors which allowed several perfect pawprints to be left as the cat walked over to a statue on the coffee table. The dust was gone with a snap of her fingers. It had been a few years since she had been to this particular house, but it was by far one of her favorites, second to only that of her castle in the Netherlands. However, this house bore its own importance to her. She had it specially built atop of the site of her once beloved village that was so wrongfully ripped from her. The painful memories swirled like poison in her mind until she was completely consumed with the images. 

Ravyn remembered the ice that rained from the skies on that night so many years ago. Mothers fled with their screaming children as the men rushed to their almost certain deaths. The smell of death hung as thick in the air as the flaming arrows did. She was barely older than a babe when her village had been attacked the monsters. At first it seemed just like any other day. She had lived in a tiny cottage that overlooked the icy seas. Choppy waters engulfed the gentile flakes of snow that drifted daintily down from the grey sky. Winters had always been harsh for her peoples but their thick skins and hearty nature had made this one seem relatively calm in comparison to ones they had to survive in previous years. 

Her mother had left Ravyn bundled in furs by the fire as she set out for the square, but the heat seemed almost unbearable to Ravyn. It had always been like that though. She always seemed to enjoy the biting cold more than the comfort of the fire. As soon as her mother closed the door to their cottage Ravyn had shimmied out of the thick, suffocating blankets and began rummaging around the room. There was an old box hidden half-heartedly under the bed that she had seen her mother drag out in the hours in which she believed Ravyn to be asleep. Curiosity tunneled through her everytime she thought of that brown little box, and this was finally her chance to see why her mother was so engrossed with it. 

It was easy enough to stamper over and wiggle herself under the bed, but when she pulled on the chest it seemed to be glued to the floor. No matter how much she pulled it would not budge. She stared venomously at the box while laying on her stomach, resting her head in her hands. Of course her mom would do something to prevent her from snooping. “Please unstick,” she whispered and prepared to pull one last time. With all her might, she tugged on the box. To her surprise it came with her as she went flying back landing in a heap on the discarded furs. She grinned and looked around at the scattered contents of the box, which had popped open as she fell backwards. Her eyes immediately found a glimmer of silver among the papers and journals and crawled over to it. 

It was ring with a braided silver band adorned with a beautiful purple stone. Wickedly, Ravyn grinned and stuck the large thing on her finger. She gasped as it immediately shrunk down to fit her tiny fingers. Hopefully she could keep it without her mother noticing its absence.

A loud crack echoed outside, jolting Ravyn from her trance. Her short little legs hobbled over to the window to see frost slowly consuming the water. There were suddenly orders being shouted through the air, telling the men to gather their weapons. Torches began to flicker to life along with the harsh sounds of metal clanging together like funeral bells. An uproar of citizens gathered along the edge of the dock to watch the frost lick along the water, an event that surely none of them had ever had the displeasure of witnessing before. When the frost had clawed its icy hands over to the shore where the group stood, that is when it began. 

A symphony of blood curtling screams drifted to her window as shards of glinting ice plummeted to the ground. Red droplets stained the snow as the shards found their way to any exposed skin, scraping across faces and hands, making tears in the furs of the defenseless children that ran to find their mothers. The warriors threw their shields above their heads in a fruitless attempt to protect themselves against the elements. 

Ravyn suddenly felt a pull to go see the ice closer. She quickly left the window ledge and slipped on her small leather shoes. As she opened the door a gush of cold air blew through her hair, blowing off the furs she had grabbed moments before. She watched as people of all ages ran passed her, shivering in the heaviest winter garments and wondered why the cold did not chill her in the same way. The sky still rained down icy daggers but it Ravyn felt almost at ease. They were so beautiful in their own way. When the light passed through them they exploded in brilliant color. She slowly extended her hand to out the door to feel them. The first one pierced her hand and she immediately drew back to examine it. She turned over her hand several times but could not find a single mark, instead she felt a burst of energy fill her. Cautiously, Ravyn stepped out from the safety of her home, drowning out the sounds of screaming from the rest of the villagers. The ice beat down, hitting anything it could, but each shard that touched her skin invigorated her further. Ravyn began to giggle and run through the crowd of screaming people, unaware of the suffering they felt. 

Her little body went easily unnoticed as she weaved in and out of the warriors legs, unaware of how far she traveled. She was at the front lines of the battle. Waves of cold air rushed through her people, freezing them solid. They did nothing to Ravyn, only giving her more power to run through the frozen statues. Her body collided with a large form and she fell on her behind. The great, powerful mass turned to her, its red eyes peering into her with pure hatred. She slowly stood up and tilted her head to look at the intricate designs scattered all along its blue skin. A Smile crept across Ravyn’s face as she reached her hands up to touch the giant before her. Her finger tips only slightly brushed its skin before she found herself quickly being scooped up, the giant quickly fading in the distance as her mother ran with her. 

“You mustn't let them touch you!” She cried, but the words had barely escaped her lips before her face contorted and she cried out in agony. They both went tumbling towards the ground, landing a few feet away from each other. When Ravyn looked up, she saw a pool of bright red had gushed from where a frozen arrow stuck out from her mother’s limp form. She crawled towards her, panicked at the pained sounds her mother was producing. 

“Ravynia… I need you to go to our special place.” Dark blue veins began to sprout from where the arrow entered her and were slowly crawling up her body. “Please, Ravynia. I love you so much my child. You are so special, but you must go before they find you, before it is too late.” 

Ravyn could say with confidence, that day had been the worst day of her life. She had lost  _ everything _ she cared about. From then on she was forced to jump from home to home until she was old enough to take care of herself. Of course, it always helped that she found her affinity for magic not too long after her mother had died, making the idea of taking care of herself much more feasible. 

After jolting herself from her thoughts, Ravyn cleared her throat and walked over to her the sofa closest to her. The black cat had since perched itself on the statuette on the coffee table and was staring blankly at her. The rock under it was carved in the shape of a lengthy snake coiled tightly into a knot. She removed the cat from attop the snake and sat down on the dark leather couch. However, the moment her hands left its sides, the cat was back atop of the snake. 

“You know that could  _ technically  _ be considered sacrilegious. That is an alter after all.” She tried to remove the cat once more but received a meow of protest before it climbed on the snake once more. This wasn’t the only statue in the house. Ravyn had never totally abandoned the views of her old village which resulted in her home being filled with a plethora of different statues and books pertaining to norse mythology. She was practically  _ obsessed  _ with it, reading everything and anything she could get her hands on. The particular alter that her new house guest seemed to be drawn to was that of the Norse God of Mischief and Lies, Loki. 

“Loki, huh? Not a terrible choice. Actually, I think that would make quite a suiting name for you. What do you think, Loki?” He merely looked at her blankly. 

“I see you’re no help.” She got up off the couch and made her way to the kitchen area that was connected to the living room. It was quite an open space with a granite island connecting the two rooms. The cabinets were the same dark cherrywood that the floors in the rest of the house were. The stainless steel appliances gleamed harshly as she flicked on the lights and proceeded over to the sink. A small window was positioned between it and a cabinet that hung over head. Ravyn gazed longingly out of it at the choppy waters a few meters away. 

“I expect you’re quite hungry, I know I am.” She opened the cabinet directly above the sink and frowned. All that was there were old cobwebs and what seemed to be a jar with some sort of suspicious looking liquid. Oh yeah, she had completely forgot that she had to restock her food. With a flick of her wrist the entire kitchen was stocked to the brim with everything she would need. A small bag of cat food materialized on the island and Ravyn grabbed a bowl and filled it about half way with the dry looking pellets. 

“Alright here you go, I hope it tastes better than it looks. I for one am going to be making something else.” She went to the fridge and removed several chicken breasts and took them to the counter to begin prepping them. As she was carefully slicing the pieces she heard a meow sound behind her. When she turned, she saw that Loki was staring intensely at her. 

“What is it?” Loki looked at her, then looked at the food, then back at her again. Without breaking eye contact, Loki slowly reached out a paw and knocked the dish off the island. 

“Hey!” Ravyn set down the knife and ran over to where the pellets had scattered across the floor. She sighed and waved her hand, watching them disappear before her. When she stood up she found Loki sprawled languidly on the island counter, gnawing on a piece of raw chicken she had been cutting just before the incident.  

“You little shit! You tricked me.” Loki purred in response. “Of course, the ‘Prince of Asgard’ can only have the best, right? You must really be hell bent on living up to your name.” A wave tiredness swept over in that moment and she felt her eyelids droop slightly at the thought of cooking the rest of her meal. Ravyn walked over to the rest of her chicken and promptly dropped it in front of the spoiled cat. 

“Here, have the rest of it. I’m not that hungry anymore.” Ravyn dragged her hand through her hair and settled herself on the couch. She grabbed the remote and flipped on the TV before longing herself across the dark leather. On the screen, the famous Tony Stark was having a press conference about his most recent, no doubt, heroic feat. Apparently, he had saved New York yet again, destroying half of it in the process, which he was sure to leave out of his speech. If she were void of her magic, she might have been frightened by the alarming amount of attacks that had been happening as of late, but she couldn’t really bring herself to care. Especially with all the whisperings of the American Government putting together some kind of special super secret task force that Ravyn was sure she wasn’t supposed to know about. As the television continued to drone on about the likelihood of an upcoming war, Ravyn found herself deeply asleep on her sofa.

Loki took this moment to promptly shift into his Asgardian form, stretching his limbs slightly to readjust to their former length. He looked around the house with mild disdain, though there was a slight glimmer of curiosity in his eyes as he regarded her taste in deorum. Norse statuettes were peppered throughout her abode, made out an assortment of different stones and crystals. Lazily, he picked up a discarded book lying half open off a mahogany side table and flipped to a random page. A smirk graced his angled features as he saw his own name marked with a hideous shade of yellow, in fact as he flipped through the pages, he found it was marked that way sporadically throughout the book. Oh the fun he could have with this midgardian’s little obsession. However, after her dramatics in the cemetery, as well as her increasing displays of magic, Loki’s suspicions were telling him that she was not as human as she believed. 

Ravyn was certainly a very interesting specimen, he’d give her that. Initially when Heimdall had given him this mission, he had brushed it off as a half-witted attempt to keep him from trouble. However, it seemed like the all seeing thorn in his side wasn’t just being a celestial mediator with his suspicions that something was amiss with this midgardian girl. No, she must have been otherworldly, or at the very least she was a bastard halfling between an asgardian and a midgardian. That was not too uncommon, even if Loki saw it as degrading to stoop so low as to lay with a mortal. Perhaps this creature was one of Bragi’s bastards, Allfather knows that the man had enough of those to last several lifetimes. 

He turned finally to examine her more thoroughly as she slept on the sofa. She was quite tall, a little over 6 feet, he’d wager just from the fact her legs had to dangle over the armrest for her to be able to lie down comfortably. Her hair was long, sprawled around her head in dark brown ringlets like a umber halo. If it wasn’t for her rather plain midgardian clothing Loki could have mistaken her as a highborn lady with her fair complexion and regal facial structure. From what he’d seen before her eyes were a vivid green, much like his own, except hers were rimmed with brown and gold. In that moment, he wondered how she could be so ignorant to believe that she was apart of this lowly race. At best she was an imposter, at worst she was an idiot. Loki almost wished for the former,  _ at least that would be interesting.  _ He didn’t know if he could stand another ditsy half-breed  _ wench _ strutting about his family’s castle like she owns the place. 

_ Family.  _ What a misplaced word. He wasn’t surprised that it had been Frigga who had finally told him on his true heritage, expecting him to be soothed by her warm smiles and gentle, calming words. In the moment, it was enough, but the second he was away from away from her, a vicious rage had simmered within him. Loki expected that is why Heimdall quickly whisked him away on this errand, to contain the beast, no, the  _ monster _ inside of him. But what would they all do if they found out that the monster wasn’t just inside of him? 

Ravyn let out a small sigh, jarring Loki from his spiraling thoughts back to the task at hand. She had shifted slightly, resting comfortably on her back now instead of her side. Loki supposed there was only one way to truly know her intentions, but he seriously doubted they were anything but mundane at this point. He strolled over to where she laid her head, only pausing when he saw the slight twitch in her cheek.  _ She was awake _ , playfully pretending to be asleep either out of fear, or something else entirely. Perhaps she was not quite as daft as he had previously thought. It mattered not if she was conscious or not, the moment he slipped into her mind she would be incapacitated. Swiftly, Loki placed his hands on her face, his thumbs resting on her temples while his finger brushed the underside of her chin. 

Before he could continue, Ravyn’s eyes flew open and Loki found himself being blown back. She was up before he even landed on the floor, conjuring a shimmering dagger that seemed to ghost around her hand like it was made of purple smoke. He chuckled slightly and stood from his position. Ravyn was taken aback by how tall he was, towering over her with ease, which was a hard feat to achieve, but she didn’t let her face show it. No man, nor intruder of any kind was any match for her magic.

“Break into my house and think you can cop a feel while you’re at it, huh?” She held the dagger menacingly out in his direction. 

“Impressive, it appears I misjudged your abilities.” His voice came out like mercury, liquid smooth and extremely enticing, but toxic if you let it touch you. 

“Misjudged? Who are you, those nuts from the government? The ones making their ‘secret task force’.” She used her free hand to make air quotes which seemed to confuse Loki slightly. 

“Why would such a group be interesting in you?”

“Don’t answer my question with another question!” She snapped, suddenly feeling frustrated. Something shifted in her, letting the unease flow through her veins, becoming a part of her. Why didn’t he fear her? He should fear her. She  _ needed  _ him to fear her. Without that, she felt small. 

“Tell me who you are!” He took a step forward.

“Now where’s the fun in that?” 

“I’m warning you! Tell me now, I’m not afraid to hurt you!” Loki chuckled darkly.

“Oh, I really doubt that.” Before he could take another step in her direction, Ravyn flung the dagger at him. Loki easily evaded it, catching it in the air before it could get lodged into the woodwork behind him. He turned it over thrice in hand to inspect it. He was fairly impressed to say the least. It certainly was an interesting way to project magic, very unique, yet it was extremely unstable. So unstable, in fact, that he wondered how it even maintained shape for this long at all without imploding on itself. Loki was so engrossed that by the time he had looked up Ravyn had conjured, not one dagger, but a whirlwind of that levitated around.  

“Still doubt my power?” She knew it was stupid to show him what she could do. This... stranger. This intruder. Yet, it was so thrilling to use her magic for something than mundane chores. It was addicting. She felt something drip down her face and lifted her fingers so see red covering them. 

“What did you do to me?” He shook his head.

“How peculiar. You cannot control the magic that flows through your own veins.”

“Wha-” Ravyn began, but before her lips could finish her statement she fell, totally and completely consumed in darkness. Once again, completely and utterly alone. 


	2. Chapter 2

_ “You’re adopted.” _

When the people of Asgard look upon the golden throne, what they see is the Allfather. Benevolent Odin, sitting triumphantly with the mighty Gungnir staff in his hand and his two ravens by his shoulders. Powerful. Thunderous. Completely in charge. The Aesir look at their king with such an awful fear that they completely ignore the woman by his side. The elder queen, while respected, is seen mostly as an accessory to the fearsome Odin, less useful than even the vambracers on his arms.  _ A queen’s duty is to bare the next heir,  _ otherwise she is useless. This is the perception that allows people to miss Frigga’s true power. 

Frigga always had a sort of calming disposition about her that was masked by a fearsome gracefulness. She could sweep through a room full of rivaling dictators and they would fall silent in compliance at the very breath of her presence, at the mere whisper of her words, at the soft caress of her hand. A silent ruler, for it was only  _ Frigga _ who Odin would seek the counsel of. It was  _ Frigga  _ who kept the peace between worlds when the temperamental king would rather risk lives in meaningless war.  

That was why Loki just couldn’t bring himself to let out the slow bubbling rage that burned to be ignited within him. All those tireless years of trying to compete for Odin’s affection with his _dear_ _brother_. Trying relentlessly to live up to the oh so great and mighty Thor, and always being told he could do better. _And for what?_

“ _ You’re adopted.” _

It hurt. It hurt more than any wound ever could to hear from his mother, from the one person he could say he truly cared for, that he had  _ never _ belonged in Asgard.  _ Never _ belonged to Frigga.  _ Never  _ belonged on the throne. He wished he could scream, he wished he could yell at her until all of the hurt left him, but every time he open his mouth, no sound would come out. 

Frigga had sent for Loki late in the afternoon, which was not uncommon for her to do when the weather called for cool walks in the palace gardens. He arrived without hesitation, not wishing to keep his mother waiting. His parents’ chambers were particularly lavish is decoration. Gold and red was strewn  _ everywhere _ he looked, however Frigga had managed to sneak in little splashes of color with flowers and paintings that she had gathered from the heart of the city. 

The sitting room was quite a large, open expanse that came off of the private sleeping chambers. His mother sat on the opposite side of a large set of french double doors, adorned with maroon curtains. The warm sunlight combed through her golden hair, and for a second, all he could see was Thor in her wonderful fair looks and a pang of jealousy had taken over him. Loki had never looked like his family. 

_ “You’re adopted.” _

Silently, he slipped through the double doors and took his place across from her at a small round table, engraved with a single four strand braid. Now, it was Loki who was called the liesmith and silvertongue, but he learned all his tricks of deception from his mother. That is why he  _ almost _ didn’t notice the solemn look in her eyes. It was off putting to Loki, and he tried to ignore it, tried to tell himself it was just his imagination. However, he knew in his heart his mother wouldn’t look like that unless something was truly wrong. 

“Good afternoon mother, I assume you wish to talk with me.” Loki’s voice broke Frigga from her temporary trance and her head whipped around to face him. A single strand of blonde hair fell from her elegant updo. She swept it across the fine wrinkles of her face and tucked it securely behind her ear. 

“My goodness, I didn’t even notice you were there,” it was a tired and wary response that sent a tinge of dread through Loki.

“I apologize for not making my presence more known. Perhaps I shall bring Thor next time so that he may knock over your flower vase again. Surely you will know I have arrived after that.” Loki tried his best to keep the bitter tone from his voice. It just always irritated him how hopelessly boisterous his brother could be with absolutely no recourse.. Sometimes he wondered if Thor would combust if he was forced to sit still. 

“Loki… now is simply not the time to jest.” She laid a single pristine hand over his. With that one simple touch, Loki’s blood ran cold. She was trying to comfort him _before_ she had discussed with him the reason for his summoning. _No good could come of this._

“Oh, I disagree. It is always the time to jest.” Frigga’s sigh was so worn and drawn out it wouldn’t have surprised Loki if it had been her last. 

“Loki, there is something I’ve been meaning to discuss with you for sometime.”

“Pray tell, mother, why exactly  _ have  _ you called me here?” Frigga leaned forward, grasping both of his hands in her own. 

“You know that no matter what, you will always be my son. I will always love you because you  _ are  _ my son.” Loki’s eyes darted frantically from their clasped hands to her eyes.  _ No good could come of this.  _

“Why have you called me here, mother?” 

“-and nothing would ever change how I feel about you, how your family feels about you.” 

“ _ Why have you called me here, mother?”  _ The panic was gathering in his chest now. 

“Loki…” Frigga trialed off, finding it difficult to grasp the right words.

**_“Why have you called me here, mother?!”_ ** Penny in the air.

“You’re adopted.” Penny dropped. 

“What?” 

“I said, you’re adopted. I’ve wanted to tell you for some time now, I just didn’t know how,” Frigga responded, but he barely heard her. All he heard were those two detrimental words. 

_ You’re adopted.  _

An answer to all the things that didn’t make sense. 

You’re adopted. 

Why had he never seen it before?

You’re adopted.

Youreadoptedyoureadoptedyoureadoptedyoureadoptedyoureadoptedyoureadoptedyoureadopted.

“Does Thor know?” Loki wasn’t sure why this is all he could ask, but for some reason the question burned within him. 

“No, Thor has no knowledge of your true heritage.” He didn’t like the way she said  _ true heritage _ , like it was something to be danced around. 

“Exactly what  _ is  _ my true heritage? Am I some bastard child you had to beg the great and mighty Allfather to take pity on?” 

“No Loki, you’re-” He cut her off, the tightness in his chest growing.

“Or perhaps some deranged street rat with an alcoholic father, never destined for the throne. 

“Loki, I-”

“You always told me I was born for the throne, but you’ve lied. You’ve all lied.” He was spiralling, dangerously close to an explosion. By this point he was pacing along the length of the balcony, in long, erratic strides. 

“You were born to rule, just not the one on Asgard.” He stopped in his tracks and looked at his surrogate mother. Not on Asgard? Had he heard that right?  _ Not  _ on Asgard?

“Who am I, mother?  _ What  _ am I?” She pursed her lips together so tightly that her mouth was only a simple white line. 

“You are Loki Laufeyson.” No, it couldn’t be.  _ Frost giant.  _

He had to leave. He had to get out of that trapped little space, so he fled. Despite the need for answers he fled. Despite his mother’s protests echoing behind his billowing cape, he fled. Loki sped through the empty castle, away from his mother, away from the truth. 

 

~~~

 

A searing, ripping pain gravitated through Ravyn’s brain as the first inklings of light bled through her eyelids. She heard the groan escape her lips before she felt it, that slow desperate sound didn’t even sound like it could come from her. It made her seem weak…  _ she hated feeling weak _ . Unfortunately this wasn’t the first time this had happened to her. A similar instance occurred the first few times she tried to teleport, but it always shocked her how incredibly painful it was to come to. 

She moved her hands to her face, desperate to draw out the pain, but she found nothing helped. Rolling slightly to the side, she realized she was still on the floor after the events of last night. Gradually, traces of the events that had transpired seeped into her mind. Passing out, her purple dagger, a strange man in her house… A Strange man in her house.  _ There was a strange man in her house _ . Without hesitation, Ravyn’s eyes shot open, her head whipping around frantically. At first glance, everything seemed completely unscathed and in perfect order. This is certainly not what she expected considering a stranger had broken into her home. 

With effort great, Ravyn stumbled to her feet, bracing herself against the banister between herself and the sofa. The polished wood felt cold and smooth against her cheek and she was tempted to just bask there until her headache subsided. However, she needed to investigate. There was no way that the man from last night did not have a purpose for his invasion of her home.Though, at this point she was fairly certain that he was not, in fact, apart of the American government’s special people task force. His voice suggested that he was English, and from what she could tell S.H.E.L.D only contained people who were  _ aggressively  _ American. The only problem is that he didn’t exactly look like he was any normal person,  _ no one _ wore that much leather anymore. 

“I see you’ve  _ finally  _ recovered.” Ravyn had to grip the banister to keep herself from falling out of shock as Loki’s voice drawled from across the room. It was like he walked straight from the pages of a fantasy novel. Long, black hair, a few shades darker than her own, slicked back until it curved upwards towards the ends. His green and black leather armor clung tightly to his body… that was armor wasn’t it? Ravyn couldn’t exactly think of anything else it could be. 

That’s when she felt it. That pulsating aura of crackling energy surrounding him.  _ Power _ . But it wasn’t just that. No, it felt like raw energy–rough and gentle– ebbing and flowing throughout the room. Touching the walls and expanding lazily until it caressed her in its enticing embrace. Her skin tingled with excitement at the contact.  _ Magic. _ She felt  _ magic _ coming from the man who was getting increasingly more annoyed at her openly staring at him. He was tapping his foot impatiently, seemingly waiting for a response, but every time his foot hit the floor, energy rolled off him in waves leaving Ravyn more and more perplexed. 

“Who are you? Why are you in my house? How did you get in? Why did you stay?” The questions fired from her mouth like a round from a gun, but Loki seemed entirely unfazed. He raised a single eyebrow.

“My, you’re just full of questions aren’t you? Yet none of them are important.” Ravyn’s face scrunched up in annoyance. 

“Not important? A stranger breaks into my house and-and knocks me out somehow and my questions are not important?” Loki let out a breath of a laugh.

“For the record, you knocked yourself out.”

“Excuse me?” He looked at her perplexed. 

“You knocked yourself out. With your magic usage. Surely you know this.”  A beat, no response.

“You know this, correct? There is no possible way you do not know this,” he said. Ravyn scowled and stared back at him with closed lips. Loki stared back bewildered. 

“Unbelievable. A woman with the magic of an elder and the control of a child. I’m surprised you’ve even lasted this long.” 

“What would you know about it?” Ravyn didn’t want to admit it, but her interest was piqued. This was the first time in her long, _ long  _ life that anyone had even a glimmer of knowledge about real magic. Not the Pagan “witches” that roamed the earth in tight, differing covens and cults. None of them could do even a 16th of what she could. Not the Independants, not the Skyclad, not even those who worshiped the same gods that her village had, though she wanted very much for them to. Then this stranger comes along. This insanely irritating, albeit knowledgeable, intruder who with just a few words makes her question everything she knows. 

“Everything you do not, it seems.” He drifted lazily around the room, picking up this item or that, flipping through one of her more well-read mythology books.

“Listen, I think I deserve an explanation for your strange appearance in my home and your odd dress and your… self righteous attitude.” The corner of Loki’s mouth twitched upward as his eyes danced across a specific highlighted paragraph in the book he was reading. In bright green ink, he skimmed a paragraph that seemed undeniably to be about himself. In fact, the more he flipped through the book, the more passages he found that were marked in this similar manner. Not all were about him, but a vast majority were. How peculiar it was…

“Why is it you have so many books like this?” This question was unexpected, and slightly unnerving to Ravyn. 

“Why answer my question with another question? Hasn’t anyone ever told you it’s rude? I don’t even know why I’m putting up with this.”  

“It’s quite curious, really,” Loki continued, completely ignoring her. “Rather ironic as well.”

“Exactly what is?” Loki let the corner of his mouth lift slightly when he felt her compliance. It was irritating to her that in the course of just a few minutes she found herself in the mercy of this stranger. 

“Do you know what you are?” Another question.

“I-what? Do I know  _ what  _ I am? What on Earth is that supposed to mean?” He made a tsking sound and sauntered towards her. 

“My, my, you’ll certainly have to change that. Never in my long life have I heard an Asgardian refer to Midgard as Earth. How pathetically… mortal of you.” Ravyn felt a wave of ice sweep through her veins until it chilled her to the core.  

“Although, by the looks of it, “Loki grasped her chin with a pale hand and began to scrutinize her, “I wouldn’t be surprised if you were partly Vanir.” 

Ravyn did move. She didn’t breathe. She just stood there for a moment, with a stranger’s hand on her chin, forcing her to look into his vibrant green eyes. And in that moment, that brief second where she stared back at him, she let herself be vulnerable. She let herself be confused and lost with the knowledge that everything she thought she knew was suddenly obsolete. 

But reality quickly rushed in. She ripped herself away from the man before her and staggered backwards. Ravyn was quite familiar with the terminology he was using. Midgard, Asgard, Vanir… But they were all just myths, stories of the gods that her village had once worshipped before they were wiped from existence. None of it was actually real, and even if there was a shred of truth in the stories, there’s no way she would trust this stranger. The pounding in her head increased tenfold and she felt some of her magic swell to the surface. 

“Who are you?” The smile he flashed Ravyn was of devilish proportions.  

“Why,  _ that _ is the ironic part. Now,” waves of energy began to pulsate off of him, “I will give you time to end your silly little charade on Midgard while I tend to the arrangements that must be made.” 

“Wait, but-” the words barely left her mouth before he was gone. In his place, on the cold hardwood floor was her favorite mythology book,  _ Norse Gods and the Stories Around Them _ **.** It lay open on its spine, the chapter title highlighted and underlined in green ink. One word.

_ Loki _


	3. Chapter 3

The hearth crackled and spit as a servant added more wood to the already roaring flame. The heat was unnerving to Loki, who sat as far from its opulent glow as he could, wondering momentarily if it was something to do with his frost giant heritage. The fire, however, was requested primarily for the benefit of the council of elders that sat before him. It had been nearly two weeks since he first requested an audience with the irritating group about their curious little subject on Midgard, yet there he was  _ still  _ listening to their bickering. 

Asgard’s Counsel of Elders was supposed to act something like an advisory board for the Alfather, who ultimately had absolute power in the decision making. The group traditionally consisted of the 12 eldest members of the highest ranking noble families, with one actual royal advisor. Most considered it to be a great honor to serve in the presence of the king, some even made it their lifelong goal. However, Loki saw it for what it truly was, a simple way to make the people compliant. 

You see, the people had been given the very false honor of being able to remove the standing members of the council, if enough of them saw fit. However, since Odin rarely listened to any of the fools, he used them as means to do whatever he pleased and not receive public scrutiny for it. To put it simply, whenever something questionable was done by  the crown, Odin would blame it on the workings of the council. Then members would be replaced and subjects would feel satisfied that something had actually been accomplished. Meanwhile, ultimate power still remained in the hands of the royal family. It was ingenious really. 

Except for when Loki was forced to deal with them. 

He rubbed his temples as yet another dreary old man prattled on about how Asgard shouldn’t meddle with the affairs of Midgard. Loki momentarily cursed Heimdall for even putting him up to this meddling task in the first place. If the all-seeing god had not asked him to, Loki would never have embarked on such an irritating quest for a mortal-sympathizing sorceress. 

“Asgardians do not reside on Midgard. If she was from our world that is where she would be. The girl is their business, not ours!” One man with curly brown hair declared to the group. 

“How can you be so sure? Never before have I heard of a Midgardian possessing the skill of magic. Not even all Aesir have the gift to control it,” the man with washed out blonde hair questioned. 

“And why should we believe the word of the God of Mischief and Lies?” The man gestured to Loki. “How do you expect me to put Asgard’s safety in the hands of a deceitful snake like him?” Loki scowled at the man’s words. He would have been more irritated if Loki did not recall the time he had unleashed twenty serpents into his private bathing chambers the last time the man had slighted him. 

“I’d watch my tongue, Colborn, least you forget who you are referring to.” Loki spoke up and the eyes of the hall focused on him, seeming to notice him for the first time. He was growing tired of their game. 

“Our apologies, your majesty, but he does make a point, “ a mousy frail looking man said, “how are we supposed to trust this is not some sort of ruse?” Loki felt his teeth grind together in frustration. 

“It shouldn’t be a matter of you trusting me or not. I am a Prince of Asgard. My word is infinitely higher than yours regardless of whatever you  _ think _ my reputation may say about me.” 

“You are a mere child in the presence of the elders!” Loki gripped the table and shot to his feet. 

“Now you listen here-” Loki spat before a thunderous voice cut him off. 

“Enough!” Odin stood in the great golden archway of the room, his voice echoing off the high ceiling. The elders scrambled to kneel before the Allfather with a customary fist over their hearts. Loki was the only one to remain standing, a scowl etched permanently into his features. He had enough of these useless idiots for a lifetime. 

“Your grace!” The twelve men exclaimed in surprise as Odin continued on his path to the council’s meeting table. 

“Rise,” he ordered in a lazy tone and took the empty seat at the head of the table. He rested his head in his hand as the rest of the group made their way back to their seats. It seemed that even the king himself disliked dealing with the council. 

“Why is it that you have requested my presence this evening, Loki? Is the entire council not enough to satisfy whatever you need?” Loki’s eyes narrowed momentarily at his adoptive father. Before he could answer, another man i nterjected. .

“Your grace, what the Prince suggests is absolutely ludicrous. I would never sanction a mortal Midgardian to be allowed into the golden gates of Asgard.” 

“How many time must I say, the girl is not Midgardian, nor mortal before you blithering idiots get it through your thick skulls?” Loki was losing his patience very quickly.

“Girl? What girl?” The one-eyed king asked, his attention completely fixed on his son. Loki pinched the bridge of his nose and let out an exasperated sigh before recounting the story for the dozenth time. 

“The sorceress whom which resides on Midgard and seems to have little knowledge to why she is so unlike the rest of the mortals. I believe her to be Asgardian and wish to transport her here for further observation, or at the very least, for answers as to why and how she ended up on Midgard.” 

“Your grace,” the same man which Loki had quarreled with earlier spoke up, “it would be unwise to let such a creature into the heart of the castle. That is, if this girl really is what the Prince claims her to be.” Loki sneered at him before Odin spoke once more. 

“Why have you taken such a task upon yourself? What is the significance of this girl?” 

“I assure you,” Loki pressed, “that i would not be doing such if Heimdall had not asked me personally to do so.” 

“Heimdall put you up to this?” 

“As I said before, yes, Heimdall asked me to investigate the girl who suddenly appeared to him where she had not before.” Loki let his frustrations show through his careful avoidance of the Allfather's title. 

“How would you plan on bringing her here?” Finally, they were getting somewhere.

“Through the bifrost of course. I would escort her here and she could stay as a royal guest until we determine what to do with her. None outside this room need know of her true purpose in Asgard. This way, she may be removed as quickly and quietly as possible, need the occasion arise.” Odin ran a thoughtful hand through the wiry grey hairs of his beard. 

“Your grace, you cannot possibly be considering-”

“Silence!” The King’s mighty staff hit the ground with a defining crack, efficiently cutting Colborn off. 

“I must press that I believe it is more of a flight risk to leave her on Midgard with such advanced magical energy. She is, as the mortals would put it, a ticking time bomb, ready to explode at any point in time. If she does not come to Asgard to learn to control the magical ability she possesses, I fear that she may morph into an unpredictably powerful enemy.” Loki had began to pace halfway through his speech, taking long strides from one end of the table to the other. It appeared as if he were talking to himself rather than the Council of Elders and the King himself. 

Odin stared upon the dark prince, the son who was not his son. They had yet to acknowledge that stinging little fact, but both were fully aware of that. He felt the barrier there, the hostility that radiated off of Loki every time Odin looked upon him. Within that, the king saw something dangerous brewing. Perhaps this task would distract him for awhile. 

“I’ve made my decision.” Everyone in the hall looked upon the Alfather expectantly, each foolishly expecting that he had chosen their own solution. “The girl will be transported here, by Loki, who will also keep close watch on her throughout the duration of her stay in the castle.” 

Protests erupted through the room. Shouting at Odin, shouting at Loki, shouting at each other. Loki stood there with a self satisfied smirk on his face as he watched the chaos unfold before him. 

“The decision is final!” Odin declared. “Loki, you shall leave on the marrow by the bifrost. I expect you keep this under control.” 

“Of course,” then Loki, quite deliberately, dipped his head in a overly dramatic bow, “your grace.” 

Loki swept across the room in a second, finally leaving the Council behind. All there was left to do was to collect the girl. 

 

~~~

The coffee shop reeked of patchouli and old cigarettes, as it had since it was introduced to these pretentious scum. This establishment had been here since the 1902, and Ravyn had been going here since. It was a blessing in disguise that the staff changed so much that she never had to bother trying to hide her appearance because this was her favorite little nook in New York. Everything was made with old books. The walls were lined with them, there were chairs and tables and counters made of them, even the cups were made to look like they had pages printed on them. However, quite recently her private little space had been made into a paradise for these hemp-bagged bastards. Ravyn wanted to leave, she really did. It would be so easy for her to leave and wait out this idiotic trend, but damn, this was the best coffee she had ever had. 

Ravyn wrinkled her nose in disgust when an artificial cloud of smoke drifted over to her table. The sickly sweet smell of something akin to an off peach clung to her like a bug clings to a venus flytrap. She would have to get her new leather jacket cleaned if the man behind her didn’t stop the fog from his mouth. With a scowl, she turned around in her seat and tapped him on the shoulder. The man turned to face her, vapor trailing out of his nose and into her face as he did. 

“Do you mind stopping that while I’m here? It is bothering me.” The man raised his eyebrow at her. He was a younger man, around his early twenties. He had a brillowy, unkempt looking beard that stuck past his chin to his shirt. The thick striped red sweater was slightly covered by the acid washed overalls he wore. He stared at Ravyn with his watered down blue eyes in disbelief. 

“Why should I? This isn’t hurting anyone. It’s perfectly legal vape in public spaces, besides this is a smoking shop anyway.” 

“I understand that, but it is bothering me and I’ve asked you politely to stop.”

“Whatever, London. You’re obviously not from around here, so you’re just going to have to get over it and stop trying to oppress my choices.” Ravyn ground her teeth together. She hated when people would make snide comments about the way she spoke. She found that even though she had spent time in various places in her life, her dialect had remained extremely close to her mother's. It just so happens that over time, England developed an accent quite similar to her own. So even though she came first, Ravyn was always grouped with them. 

“You need to learn to respect your elders.” 

“My elders? What are you, 20 at the most?”  Ravyn felt her magic rush through her. Perhaps she would teach this irritating man a lesson. 

“I think you’re hungry,” she deadpanned, her eyes fixating on him. 

“What are you ta-” Her magic pricked his mind with debilitating forcefulness before he could utter another word. 

“I said, I think you’re hungry.” The man’s mouth opened to retort once more but no words came out. His eyes flickered around frantically as his hand immediately grasped the porcelain ashtray that laid on the table in front of him. It was filled with the foul smelling butts of long discarded camel cigarettes, their pink bands crumpled within the half smoked tobacco and ruined filters. 

The man’s thick, meaty fingers scraped to the bottom of the tray, the chalky ash embedding under his fingernails and mixing with the coarse hair on his knuckles. He grasped a handful of the blackened ends and brought them to his face. In one fluid motion, the man put them in his mouth. A few stray butts fell from his hand, leaving smoky grey trails all along his shirt and overalls. He bit down once, then twice before his eyes started to tear up from the foul tasting tobacco. His hands twitched, trying desperately to remove them from his mouth, but they stayed firmly at his sides while he continued to choke and gag. 

“Do you like this?” Ravyn questioned calmly. The man shook his head vigorously, still slowly chewing. There was a thin black trail that had now leaked from the corner of his mouth down to his chin. 

“It feels like you’re suffocating doesn’t it? Like all your senses are being bombarded by the overwhelming taste and smell.” He shook his head again.

“Well that’s what I feel like when you blow your disgusting vapor into my face. Now spit it out.” 

His hands instantly cupped under his mouth and the remains of the cigarettes pooled into his palms. His teeth were no longer yellowed, but black with stray tobacco and paper sticking to them. The spit and ash leaked from his hands to his lap as he stared at her fearfully, unable to immediately flee. 

“Perhaps this will teach you to be kinder to those around you. Think of this next time you decide to be pretentious.” The spell was lifted and Ravyn watched smugly as he bolted from his seat to the door. Just before he left she saw the man reach into his pocket and deposit the silver device into the trash. 

No one in the cafe had witnessed the scene unfold before them, much to Ravyn’s delight. She turned back to her table to continue reading, but sitting there, right across from her, was none other than the God of Mischief himself. 

It had been nearly three and a half months since she had seen him for the first time. Three months of waiting to see if he ever did return as his words suggested. Three months of unanswered questions gnawing at her brain. Three months of trying to convince herself that her perpetual loneliness hadn’t driven her insane. Even now, as Ravyn gawked at the long haired God adjacent to her, she wasn’t quite sure. 

He had an arm lazily thrown across the back of the seat he was in while the other absentmindedly fiddled with a golden object in his hand. He no longer donned the strange garments he did last time. Instead he wore a sleek suit jacket with a long viridescent scarf that hung across his shoulders. He was watching her curiously, as if she were some sort of caged animal. 

“That was an interesting trick you used, quite advanced for someone with such little magical practice as yourself.” His dark tenor broke her from her trance.

“Loki,” Ravyn breathed out, only slightly above a whisper. Loki unhooked his arm from the seat and rested it on the table between them, leaning forward slightly so there was only a foot of distance between them. 

“I see you’ve discovered who I am. Bravo to you for that. Perhaps there is some hope for you.” His sarcasm took on more of a snide tone in response. 

“I didn’t think you would come back.” He rolled his eyes.

“Even with your limited mortal education you must understand that there is such a thing as a time difference between different planets.” He stopped his explanation briefly as a waitress came to refill the empty coffee cup that was abandoned on the table. Ravyn looked up slightly and muttered a thank you before returning her full focus to Loki, who looked more than annoyed at the interruption. 

“As I was saying, I come from a different world than this, a different galaxy with longer days than you are used to on this  _ pathetic _ realm.” He spat the word in the direction of the waitress who eyed the table with mild interest. 

“A single day and night cycle on Asgard is equal to an entire week on Midgard.”

“It’s been three months…” Ravyn trailed off. Loki let out an exasperated sigh.

“While it may have been three moons here, I only spent a fortnight is Asgard before I came back to collect you.” Ravyn pursed her lips, her forehead wrinkling slightly. This was almost too much to handle. 

“Collect me? What does that even mean?” Instead of answering her question, Loki got up from his position and began to walk to the door in long, graceful strides. Several heads turned to watch him leave, their eyes wide with awe at the dangerously tall man before them. 

“Wait!” Ravyn called after him. She fumbled through her purse and quickly threw a fiver on the table before rushing out into the cool New York air. 

People rushed by her, pushing past each other in both directions as the hard grey sky shone unforgivable above them all. Ravyn’s head whipped from side to side as she searched frantically for where he could have gone. Out of the corner of her eye, about a block away, she caught a glimpse of green slipping into an abandoned alleyway. She practically ran after him, weaving in and out of passerbys until she got to the alley. He stood in the narrow strip of crumbled grey rocks and graffiti, looking strikingly out of place. 

“What the hell is your problem? It seems every time I ask you a question you just disappear. I don’t know what it’s called on your realm, but here that’s considered a dick move.” 

“I’m taking you to Asgard,” he said emotionlessly. 

“ _ Excuse  _ me? You’re doing  _ what? _ ” 

“I said, I am taking you to Asgard, what do you not understand about that?” He repeated, donning a much more bitter tone. Ravyn stared at him with utter disbelief. 

“I think the fuck not!” Loki took a dangerous step towards her so that he was towering over her curvy frame. 

“You have a filthy vocabulary.” 

“Well what do you expect? You’re a complete stranger. I don’t even know if you really exist.” In the blink of an eye, Loki took another step forward. His hand shot out and tightened around her wrist. His mouth lowered daringly close to her ear. 

“I assure you,” Ravyn felt something cold clamp around her wrist, “This is entirely real.” 

She yanked her hand away from him and stumbled a few steps away. Ravyn examined her wrist thoroughly, twisting it to get a better glimpse of what Loki could have possibly put on her. It was a rustic gold set of twin snakes entwined with each other, wrapped snuggly around her wrist. One head was pressed firmly into the soft pale flesh of her inner forearm while the other rested carefully on the bend of her hand, its sharp emerald eyes glaring up at her. Ravyn tried to pry it off with her other hand but it wouldn’t budge.

“What the hell is this?” 

“That, he gestured to the bangle, “is my mark.”

“Your mark?” She repeated.

“Yes, it’s customary for visitors of Asgard to bare the mark of their host. You are to remain as my royal guest until further notice. No one save the council and Odin himself will know of why you are truly in the realm eternal.”

A fiery rage bubbled inside Ravyn. How dare he just disrupt her life? How dare he mark her like some sort of possession. Yet deep down she felt a slight trickle of excitement at the possibility of traveling to the world she had poured countless hours into studying. 

“You marked me? You absolute prick!” Before she could think she had cocked her arm back and swung directly at his face. Loki easily caught her by her wrist, gripping her so tightly that the golden bracelet left imprints in his hand. Ravyn tried to pry his fingers off with her other hand but he trapped that wrist as well and brought her so close that she could feel his warm breath on her face. She tried to struggle against his chest, but he quickly stilled her with one swift jerk.

“Now listen here girl, my mark is not something I gift just any person carelessly. Very few have ever had the privilege to wear it, and be that as it may it will also act as a form of protection. The people of Asgard will see my mark and know that if any harm comes to you they will pay far more dearly than however you have been slighted. I have bestowed this highly coveted gift to you, yet you still try to strike a member of the royal family. People of a far higher position than you have lost their hands for such an act.” 

He threw her away from him and watched as she tried to regain her footing. Ravyn rubbed her wrist and glared at him. It was embarrassing, to say the least, how different her perception of this man was before she had actually met him. 

Loki was always her favorite god to read about when it came to Norse Mythology, which it almost always did. Ravyn had been borderline obsessed from the moment she first learned about the black haired man that stood before her. She poured over the stories and legends that surrounded him, everything from his playful mischief to his bringing of Ragnarok. However, the subject that she cared for the most was that of his magic. Many other myths carried stories of sorcery, but Ravyn had never felt the same connection that she had when she read about Loki’s. It was laughable to her now to think that Loki would be anything but arrogant. 

“Why are you even doing this? It’s obvious you have much better things to be doing.” 

“You’re correct, I do have better things to be doing than escorting an ungrateful girl such as yourself.” 

“Then don’t escort me!” Ravyn threw her arms in the air out of frustration. “Just leave me here on this planet. Alone. Like I’ve lived and survived for hundreds of years now without the help of anyone who may, or may not, be a part of my true race.”

“I’ve had enough of this.” Loki snagged the arm closest to him. “We are leaving now.” Before she had time to argue, Ravyn’s back was forced against Loki’s chest and a brilliant multicolored light engulfed them. The last thing that Ravyn saw of Midgard, at the very end of the alley, was the continuous scraping of shoes against the city pavement. New York, as well as Earth, continuing along as if she had never even been there. 


	4. Chapter 4

 Falling. She was falling. The universe had swallowed her soul, rocketing her through the very fabric of its being. It was a canvas for her to paint her starry presence on. She was nothing. She was everything. The entire cosmos caressed her fragile mind, whispering the secrets that everyone wonders, but no one dares to ask. The blackened totality bloomed before her eyes in swirls of vibrant energy. Ravyn could feel every embodiment at once. All the joy, all the agony. They bled together in one endless and euphoric moment as she breathed in infinity. 

       Her mind was the liquid gold that filled the stars, beautiful and oblivious. Ravyn collided with the rigid stone floor, but for just a moment she was unaware, her existence still living with the celestial happenings. A great gasping sound escaped her lips her lungs worked on their own accord, filling themselves full of the oxygen they were deprived. The first thing Ravyn was aware of when her mind started to ease back into the world was pain. The pain of reality burned in her head and her veins, so much so that she couldn't bare to move. Slowly, the rest of her senses trickled back to her body. The gift of sight was among the first. It came to her so suddenly that the brightness made her crave being blind once more. Ravyn closed her eyes for a moment and felt a hard presence under her body. All she could see when she opened them again was the large golden ceiling above her. She tried to voice her displeasure, but her mouth only let out an undignified grunt.

“Welcome back, Prince Loki. I hope your travels went well.” Ravyn heard a sonorous voice echo throughout the domed expanse. 

Loki... She knew that name. Why did she know that name exactly? Memories slowly trickled into her mind as Ravyn struggled to remember why that name was so important. Loki. He was the Norse God of Mischief and Lies, she knew that much for sure. She remembered reading about him constantly in all her books, about his fascinating magical talent that reminded her so much of her own. Ravyn remembered the piercing green eyes that stared at her with contempt as she laid on the floor of the bifrost observatory…

“Oh don’t bother with pleasantries, Heimdall. You know  _ exactly _ how my travels went.”

Everything hit her at once and she shot up from her place on the floor, whipping her head around frantically. Her eyes landed on Loki, who stood a few paces away from her now donned head to toe in traditional royal armor. 

“You bastard.” She heard the raspy words fling from her mouth before she felt them. Ravyn shot to her feet and descended on the dark prince. 

“How DARE you! You literally just kidnapped me right in the middle of New York. Are you out of your fucking mind? Take me back right now or I swear to fucking god-” As she raised her hand slightly before her in frustration she got a glimpse of something purple cascading down her arm. 

“What the hell?” Ravyn looked down at herself in disbelief noticing for the first time that she was no longer in her casual earthly attire. She turned to see herself fully in the reflective golden metal around her. Everything about her seemed to be completely different from before. The dress she was in was a long purple assortment of elegant layered fabrics that wisped around her body with every movement. Fixed upon her chest was a, surprisingly comfortable, silver armored breastplate, adorned with several smaller gems that accented the peak of her breasts. Upon her shoulders was a satiny silver traveling cloak embroidered with a few different symbols she did not recognize. She looked carefully at her pale face, framed by her soft brown curls, and realized that even her skin seemed to glow a little different in this atmosphere. 

“Obviously I couldn’t have you walking around Asgard in Midgardian attire. This will suffice until you can be properly fitted by the tailors,” Loki drawled, picking at the beds of his fingernails. His voice brought her out of her temporary state of shock and she rounded on him once more, the same icy anger taking hold once more. 

“Oh well this is just fucking perfect. Not only do you kidnap me, but you also take away the only possessions I have.” 

“Watch you tongue, girl. It is extremely unbecoming of a lady to use such foul language and not be reprimanded for it, especially in the presence of royalty.” Before she could retort the same voice from earlier cut through their arguement. 

“Welcome to Asgard, Lady Ravynia.I hope you enjoy your stay here.” This was the first time Ravyn acknowledged the presence of the other god in the room. His heavy armor stood defiantly from the rest of the room as he gazed upon them with his all seeing eyes. Ravyn’s hatred towards Loki immediately melted away the moment she saw the ebony gatekeeper. 

“Y-You’re Heimdall, all-seeing gatekeeper of the Bifrost. You transport people between the nine realms.” He let a slight smile slip into his stoney features as she stared at him in complete awe. 

“Perhaps she will not be as difficult to integrate as you believed,” Heimdall commented to Loki who only rolled his eyes at the fawning girl. 

“Do not speak so soon, her mouth is filthier than a peasant’s chamber pot and she has a complete disregard for royal status.” 

“She will learn,” Heimdall assured.

“Speaking of which, we have much to accomplish before nightfall. Come.” He beckoned for her to follow. Ravyn was still in such a state of shock that she was actually meeting one of her favorite gods that she obeyed without protest. She followed Loki out of the giant dome, stepping into the cool Asgardian air for the first time. Immediately, she was completely consumed with the sights and sounds of the new world around her. 

Below her feet, the rainbow bridge glimmered an swirled in a thousand colors she couldn’t even dream to name. Further down, she could hear the black waters crash and swirl on the jagged rocks until they dropped into the heavens entirely. The city shone brilliantly before them, reflecting the bright mid-afternoon sun. Ravyn pointed to the large building that stood proudly in the center of the city.

“Is that the palace?” Her gaze was full of absolute wonder. Loki side eyed her strangely at her question.

“Aren’t you still furious with me for kidnapping you, and for being, as you phrase it, ‘out of my fucking mind’? Surely, you cannot possibly be  _ enjoying  _ your relocation.” His sarcasm rolled off her. She knew that she should be feeling upset about all of this. To an extent, she was. She was upset with  _ how  _ she got there, but now, as the realm eternal bathed her in its otherworldly life, Ravyn couldn’t bring herself to be mad. She had been dreaming of this place all her life, and to finally be here was… more than overwhelming. 

“Shut up.” Out of the corner of her eye, Ravyn watch a small smirk lift from the corner of his mouth before he continued to walk along the length of the Bifrost. She scrambled to catch up to him. Part of her was angry that she would push away her hostility with Loki so quickly, but the part of her enthralled with the world around her knew that she needed to be at least civil to him. He was her only connection to this completely different culture, and unfortunately, she would need him if she had any hopes of learning about it. 

At the end of the bridge, where the rainbows stopped to give way to land, two horses awaited them. They were both massive compared to those that were on Midgard, but as she looked at Loki’s stature, she realized why that probably was. One of them sported blackened horns that matched its equally dark mane. The other was a dark brown with a simple leather saddle and reins. 

Loki mounted his with ease and adjusted his cape accordingly. Ravyn had never ridden a horse in a dress before. She was unsure if it was proper for her to try to ride it normal or if she was expected to ride the beast side-saddle.

“Hurry up then, I have no time for your meandering.” She was just going to have to wing it. Ravyn put her foot in the stirrup and tried her best not to flash him as she swung her leg around the creature. The leather was warm and comfortable between her legs as she settled into place. He didn’t comment on her riding position, so she assumed it would be alright. They started off and he told her to put the hood of her cloak up.

“Best to leave an air of mystery for the meantime. There is nothing that the Aesir love more than a bit of gossip, and they are sure to have a field day with you.” 

Resentfully, Ravyn followed his instruction and lifted her hood so that it partially shielded her face. She was glad that she did however, because the moment they stepped into the city, eyes were instantly glued to her. The citizens rushed to gather around the path they followed, desperate to get a glimpse of Loki’s new companion. Whispers flitted through the air until they erupted into shameless chatter. 

Who was she? Why was she here? Why would she arrive with Prince Loki? Was she to be trusted?

All the attention was making Ravyn extremely uncomfortable. The last time this many eyes were on her was when she accidentally got mixed up in the Salem Witch Trials, which was understandably not a pleasant memory. After that, Ravyn had always tried to keep a low profile. It seemed that she would not have that same option on Asgard. 

Uncomfortably, she shifted her hands on her reins, tightening her grip on them for stability. The amethyst sleeve of her gown slid past her wrist and bunched at her forearm, exposing the metallic bangle Loki had given her. A loud gasp came from a woman to her right.

“Gods! She’s got his mark!” 

“What? Where?” 

“There! Right there, look! That’s his mark!” The woman pointed at Ravyn’s wrist and a thousand eyes fell upon it. Just like that, all hell broke loose. 

“His mark!”

“She’s wearing his mark!”

“Prince Loki never gives out his mark!”

“Who is this girl?”

“I bet they are lovers!”

“I bet she’s a prisoner!”

“Don’t be stupid! You don’t give your mark to a prisoner!”

“Why does she deserve it?”

“She doesn’t look special to me.”

“Is this why the bifrost has been so active lately?” 

The city was a buzz of questions and Ravyn found it increasingly difficult to keep her eyes straight ahead of her. Loki quickened his pace only slightly as the gates to the palace came into sight and she adjusted her speed in order to stay abreast to him. Loki had remained silent the entire ride, only giving a slight flick of his wrist to gesture for the einherjar to open the gates. Several guards had to hold back the energetic crowds as they passed through the archway. 

It was so much calmer passed the doors that Ravyn could clearly hear the horses’ hooves clambering against the cobblestone. Loki led them over to a smaller building in which a rather plain looking man waited for him. The Prince dismounted his steed and handed the reins to the boy, giving a quick nod in thanks. Ravyn followed Loki’s lead and began to dismount, but on her way down the satin of her gown caught on the metal stirrups and felt herself tumble from the horse’s back. 

Ravyn squeezed her eyes shut and braced herself for impact, but instead found that someone had caught her. She opened her eyes in confusion to see Loki scowling at her. Her cheeks flared up as she quickly removed herself from his stiff embrace with embarrassment and muttered a quick thanks. The stable boy scrambled off with the two horses and two were left alone.

They stood there awkwardly while Ravyn shuffled around uncomfortably, letting out a slight cough while trying to look anywhere but him. Loki rolled his eyes at her ridiculous antics, his patience already running thin. He just did not understand how this girl could grind his nerves so expertly when he’d barely spent any time with her. She wasn’t so much of a mystery as she was an enigma to him. It seemed that she had changed completely the moment that she realized they were in Asgard. The arrogant, vulgar girl had shifted completely into a timid and clumsy idiot within five minutes of their arrival. Loki wasn’t sure which he preferred at the moment. 

“Take my arm.” He held it out for her and instinctively she reached out, but retracted her hand before she could actually touch him.

“Why should I? I see no fucking reason why I should trust you.”

Strike that. He definitely preferred her weak compliance from before. 

“If you blow your cover with your foul vocabulary I will sew your mouth closed and leave you to rot in the dungeons.” He used his free hand to wrap her arm around his own, which was thankfully met with little resistance from her part. They began to walk up the hill that led to the palace entrance. 

“Let’s make a few things clear. If anyone asks, I have brought you here from Vanaheim to study magic under me. Only a partial lie really, as you will be studying magic during your stay. However, I have no desire to teach someone like you a single thing, so you will be provided with the materials to study independently.” 

“Is that why I’ve been dragged from Earth? To study magic? That hardly makes sense.”

“First off, it’s Midgard. If you want the privilege to interact with anyone besides a guard outside a cell you will use the correct terminology.” She let out a huff and rolled her eyes.

“You’ve made your point, I’ll watch what I say, but that doesn’t explain why I’m actually here.” He gave the einherjar a slight nod as the two passed through the entrance of the castle and began to work their way through some of the long, winding halls. There were alone again before he spoke once more. 

“You are here because your magic is completely out of control.”

“What? That’s ridiculous I-”

“Your magical control is pathetic at best. You have no idea how to moderate your magic because you’ve been living on that pathetic planet for so long, for whatever reason. Without the proper training your power will turn your brain to stew and use your body as a magical conduit to do whatever it pleases. Most likely, destroying anything in its path.” 

Silence fell between them once more as Ravyn contemplated his words carefully. She wasn’t sure if she didn’t trust him because of her past experiences, or if it was because he seemed to do whatever he needed to get his way. He was the God of Lies after all, one with a rather obvious distaste for her. Surely he would have no moral qualms about lying to her.

However, Ravyn did have to admit that she did have some troubles with her magic, but it seemed rather far fetched that there could be such a severe reaction. Even if it was true, why would he care if it happened? Loki made it quite clear that he didn’t care about her or Midgard, so why would he do anything that would benefit them? No, there definitely had to be something else that he was not telling her. 

This conclusion was made just as a rather exuberant shout echoed throughout the hall they were walking in. 

“Brother! You’ve finally returned.” Loki immediately halted bringing Ravyn to an abrupt stop next to him. He pinched the bridge of his nose.

“Dammit,” Loki muttered to himself, barely loud enough for Ravyn to hear him. This was just what he needed today. An idiot girl and his idiot brother. What could possibly go wrong. 

“Brother. I thought you’d be sparring by now.” He said pleasantly, schooling his features completely. Loki had let go of Ravyn’s arm and carefully spun around to face the elder prince. She followed suit, trying to keep her expression blank as Thor came into view. 

The first thing she noted was how accurate the legends had portrayed the Golden God before her. He was massive in build, reminding her of the shirtless men plastered on the covers of magazines shameless women would fantasise about. The man was extremely tall, however just slightly shorter than the dark god that stood next to her. His sort of wavy, blond hair came to rest just below his hulking shoulders. The moment Ravyn had turned Thor’s eyes shifted to her. He parted his lips to reveal a dazzling smile and Ravyn could say in all certainty that he was  _ definitely _ an attractive man. 

“Brother,” he quickly wet his lips, “You neglected to tell me you were going to have company.” His eyes openly trailed over her. “And such attractive company at that. Pray tell, what could such a lovely beauty such as yourself be called?” 

Loki was more than just a little fed up with his brother’s flattery. Especially when a small giggle erupted from the woman next to him. Clearly she buying into the elder Odinson’s exaggerated charms. 

“Ravynia,” she hummed softly in response. 

“Ravynia.” Thor repeated her name thoughtfully, sounding out her name like he wanted to taste how it felt in his mouth. “What an exquisite name. I could think of nothing better to reflect your lovely nature. I am Prince Thor, “ he flashed her a grin and leaned down until he was on a single knee. He gently took her hand in his own and brought it to his lips. 

“It is a  _ pleasure _ to meet you, Lady Ravynia.” He kissed the soft flesh of her hand, catching a slight glimpse of her bracelet. He cast her a curious look and carefully pulled back her sleeve to reveal the snakes coiled around her wrist. He looked up at Loki in surprise.

“She bares your mark, brother?” Thor asked, standing from his previous position, Ravyn’s wrist still within his grasp. “My apologies, I had no idea. Does mother know yet? She is going to be quite pleased when she learns that you’ve finally decided to court someone.” 

“Excuse me?” Ravyn sputtered in complete shock. She pulled her wrist to her chest and cradled it with her other hand. Is  _ THAT _ what being marked meant? 

“I am not courting her, brother,” Loki snorted in amusement. Of course that is what his brother would immediately think. 

“Is that so?” Thor looked back to her for confirmation and she vigorously nodded her head.

“Loki is not-” she brought her hand to her mouth and let out a forced cough, “I mean,  _ Prince _ Loki is certainly not courting me, and for that matter, no one else is either.” Thor’s mouth quirked up in a sort of sly smile.

“Would you like to change that?” 

“Oh!” Ravyn’s cheeks became completely scarlet at the prince’s forwardness. It was a little embarrassing to admit, but she had never actually had much experience with flirting on Midgard due to her exaggerated life expectancy. Ravyn never really saw the point of engaging in it since she wasn’t going to pursue any sort of relationship. 

“That’s enough, Thor. We’ve just travelled by way of the bifrost and our dear guest still needs to get settled in her chambers.” Loki tried to use this as a way to end the conversation, but Thor didn’t seem to get the hint. 

“Well if she isn’t here for courtship, then why did you bring her here, Loki? I don’t even remember the last time you let someone wear that.” Ravyn opened her mouth to answer, but Loki quickly interjected before she could even utter a sound.

“If you must know, I’ve brought her from Vanaheim. Her father is a rather high ranking noble who requested she have the most prestigious magical education. Apparently, that would be me.” Thor regarded her with careful interest. Many Aesir had a slight affinity for magic, but it was truly rare for anyone to have power beyond weak spells. The real gift of magic was almost never seen. 

“You’re a sorceress? Well by all means, you should come to the training grounds with Loki and myself. I’d love to see just what you are capable of.” Loki pursed his lips.

“Perhaps when we are finished settling her in, but for now we really must be going.” He spun them both around and briskly continued them on the path they had been on before Thor had interrupted them. 

“Looking forward to seeing you there, Lady Ravynia!” Thor shouted after them. Ravyn turned her head back to offer a smile which Loki responded to by pulling her forward once more. They had continued their walk in silence. The halls they walked down slowly shifted in appearance. Before, the great arched windows lit their path, highlighting the marble columns and intricate paintings that dotted the walls of the castle. The farther they walked, the less natural lighting there was. The sconces’ warm glow stained the stone floors with a soft yellow light. The halls were much more narrow in this part of the castle, but seemed to have just as much, or even more decoration than before. 

They stopped at a large wooden that Loki hastily pushed open to reveal a rather lavish looking sitting room. Ravyn barely had time to examine her surroundings before Loki was issuing instructions.

“These are your chambers. They consist of a sitting room, a bath, and a bedroom. Until I see fit, you will not leave these rooms unless accompanied by myself. The tailors will be here shortly to take your measurements and provide you with some menial clothing until they can construct a proper wardrobe for you. You will be assigned a handmaiden to assist you that under no circumstances is permitted to know who you really are.” She scowled at him as he plucked a few books from off a shelf and handed them to her. 

“These are the books you will be studying. You are not permitted to use any magic that is outside of these texts until I know you aren’t going to blow yourself up by being foolish. If I do not arrive to take you to meals then they will be delivered to you. Now, I have things to do, I’m sure you can entertain yourself.” 

“Wait, does this mean we can go to the training grounds now?” Ravyn asked. She was dying to see more of the palace than just the halls that they walked through.

“Absolutely not,” he snapped, “You are more certainly not ready to interact with anyone yet. In fact-” He reached up to grab another book off a shelf and thrust it in her hands. “-Perhaps you should read up on how to act before the tailors arrive and you make a fool of yourself. 

Ravyn frowned and turned the old book over in her hands. It took her a minute to make out old Norse, but slowly she read the title. _A Beginner’s Guide to_ _Asgardian Customs and Etiquette._

“How can I even read-” Ravyn looked up from the title just as she saw the door swinging shut. Unbelievable. 

“Wow, what a bloody prick.” Ravyn muttered to herself before looking back down at the book in her hands. She flipped to chapter one  _ Titles and Societal Order _ and began to read. 

There really wasn’t much else she could do until Loki returned

Except wait...


	5. Chapter 5

“Would you  _ please _ stop squirming! I’ll never be able to get these hems right if all you do is move.” 

Ravyn huffed and did her best to remain still while the seamstress pinned the fabric at her feet. They had been going about this for what seemed like an eternity, but in reality was only a few hours. The arches of Ravyn’s feet screamed in protest at the long hours spent standing in one position. It wasn’t her fault that the shoes on this blasted planet didn’t seem to have as advanced support in them as those on Midgard. 

Countless silks in an array of colors had been draped over her in an effort to make her appear like a lady. Ravyn wasn’t exactly sure why that was, considering it didn’t seem like The God of Mischief would be taking her a stroll in the garden any time soon. He seemed to properly despise Ravyn, though she couldn’t see why. It’s not like she had done him any injustice...Well besides attempting to strike him with her magic, but she was  _ only _ trying to defend herself. 

“I’m  _ trying _ . It’s not my fault these blasted garment slippers are so bloody uncomfortable.” The seamstress pursed her lips in disapproval. 

“Perhaps that is because you’ve been fidgeting for the last two hours. They are designed to be comfortable when you’re standing still and upright. Where in Asgard  _ did _ the Prince pick you up at?”

Ravyn straightened her posture and felt a tingle of energy crawl up her legs. She let out a soft sigh as the relief she had been so craving swept to her aching soles. What kind of sick enchantment was this? Only the upper class would think of a way to make fittings more torture than they already are. Ravyn was positive that if Midgardians had that spell during the victorian era women would have evolved to have straight spines by the 20th century. 

“I’m from Vanaheim on some sort of magic scholarship apparently,” Ravyn recounted, remembering the story Loki had come up with. “My father wished me to have a competent instructor.”

The lie tasted bitter on her lips. Her father had wished it. What father was that exactly? The one who abandoned Ravyn and her mother before she was even born? The father that left them to die in a small village that was pillaged by monsters? No, it felt wrong to even pretend she had someone like that who cared for her. The last person like that died a long, long time ago. 

“A sorceress, eh? Been a long time since one of those skilled enough to light a candle emerged from Vanaheim,” the old woman started, eying Ravyn suspiciously. “Especially one skilled enough to be taken on as an apprentice by the Dark Prince himself.” 

“Well,” Ravyn began, trying her best to maintain her composure in front of the woman, “He must have seen some sort of promise in my abilities.” 

“Hmm,” the old woman contemplated for a second. A silvery blonde hair escaped her perfect bun and drifted in front of her grey eyes as she met Ravyn’s stare. “Must have seen more than promise for you to be given this.” 

In that moment the seamstress dropped what she was doing to raise a wrinkled hand to the bangle around Ravyn’s wrist. Her fingers tentatively grazed the metal so timidly that it seemed as though the woman expected the gold to burn her. When that was not the case her calloused hand wrapped around it further, turning it this way and that in order to get a better look at what she was seeing. 

“My lady, I’ve been around a long time now. Much before you were even a thought in your parents’ heads. I’ve watched both princes bloom from babbling babies to more than capable men. In all that time I have only seen this mark maybe once-twice before. I know exactly what this mark entails, the question is, do you?” 

Great, Ravyn thought, just another person who thinks the Prince and herself  _ are and item _ . How foolish. How could anyone possibly think she would be interested in him. No, she had been just fine without the trouble of romance in her life up to this point, it would be preposterous to let all these strangers think otherwise just because of some stupid bracelet. 

“I hate to not leave you with some juicy gossip, but the rumors are simply false. Prince Loki is not courting me, and even if he attempted to do so I would not agree. I am here for one purpose and that is to further my studies. If that means being… marked, then so be it. However, I won’t tolerate people thinking I am here for anything other than my talent.” Ravyn finished, looking down to the seamstress at her feet.

“I see.” The crone nodded her head slowly before rising to her feet. Steadying herself on a nearby bannister she waved a hand for the other girls to take their leave. They gathered their items and quickly ducked out the door, leaving only the old woman and Ravyn in the vast room. 

“I will be taking my leave now. An assortment of garments were left in your wardrobe that will be acceptable until your dresses are finished.” She walked towards the door where the others had left only to turn her head back once she reached its frame. 

“One more thing.” 

“Yes?” Ravyn replied from across the room. She still stood on the block from before in a tight black corset, making her about a foot taller than the seamstress. 

“Allow an old woman to give you a little bit of advice. Asgard isn’t as wondrous as it seems to be. Sometimes those who appear to be the least trustworthy are the people who you must rely on the most. Listen to your gut and stay vigilant.” 

Ravyn wasn’t exactly sure what to do with that information, but she nodded anyway, watching the woman’s slight frame until the great ordinant door shut behind her. This was truly becoming a perplexing day. 


	6. Chapter 6

Time appeared to be exaggerated on Asgard. The molten sun remained poised overhead for what seemed like an eternity after the seamstress left, heating the room to an uncomfortable degree. Ravyn fanned herself and checked the grandfather clock for the thousandth time, praying for the minute hand to move as she counted to sixty. Neither hand moved even after sixty had been surpassed by 300. Perhaps her boredom had driven her to insanity.

This wasn’t the first time she was supposed to hide herself away. Ravyn had a long history of hiding from people, but usually it was her choice. The idea of not having the freedom to do as she wished made her skin itch with the thought of past times. After her mother died, Ravyn found herself in the care of a local surviving family for a few generations until she was old enough to care for herself. They were not necessarily cruel to her, even though she hated them at the time. It took many years for Ravyn to understand that how they treated her was not out of malice, but out of fear. The family was terrified they would be persecuted if it was ever found out they were harboring a child so supernatural. 

That understanding made a part of her want to obey Loki’s order to remain in confinement. He might have been pompous, but surely there was a reason for his attitude. Perhaps it would be better to trust his judgement. The God was supposed to be fairly intelligent, from what Ravyn read anyway. She didn’t think one could get very far with mischief and lies without being at least the smallest bit knowledgeable. 

The chamber continued to boil like molasses in the summer. Ravyn laid atop the monstrous bed in only her undergarments in a failed attempt to cool off. The slick sweat clung to her body and made the fine silken sheets beneath her stick to bare patches of skin. Why was it kept so hot here when surely they had the technology needed for central air? There was no possible way that people could be comfortable living like this, god or not. Unfortunately, not even opening the doors to the balcony helped ease the stagnant heat. Any breeze carried in from the outside only further helped smother her. 

Soon, Ravyn found herself wandering to the oversized bathroom. The black tile was pleasantly cool under her feet. She contemplated just laying down on them until her eyes found the pool sized bathtub in the center of the room. Her face lit up with joy and she rushed over to start the water. A cold bath would be the perfect thing to soothe her burning skin. However, the tub was so large that it would take a few minutes before there would be a substantial amount of liquid. 

In the meantime, Ravyn decided to comb through the bookshelf for something to read for when the water was done. Her hands trailed along the fresh spines in a desperate attempt to find something interesting. With each title, Ravyn’s disappointment grew.  _ Asgardian Fashion for the Not-So-Common Woman, How to Choose a Loyal Servant, The Art of Royalty, His Majesty King Fromat; the Last Great Dwarven King.  _ She was rather appalled at the lack of substance. Were these just generic books or did the people of this world actually value reading about these things? 

Besides the bookshelf sat a small wooden table with a book hanging open off the side, as if it was uncaringly thrown there. It was the same book that Loki had thrusted into Ravyn’s hands before leaving her in this miserable inferno. She was so insulted by hardback tomb that she tossed it on the first surface there was. With limited options, Ravyn picked it up and rolled her eyes. Even though the stubborn part of her didn’t want to potentially give any satisfaction to Loki, the other part of her had to admit it might be useful to learn a little bit about the society around her. 

By the time Ravyn made her decision to read it, the water finally had reached enough height for her to slip in fully. It felt glorious on her hot skin. She sighed in relief and took a few moments to bask in the almost shimmering pool. It was hard to tell if the water was actually shimmering or if it was the trick of the low lighting. Ravyn snorted a little when she realized it was just like the upper class to need better water than anyone else. The king himself probably shat on a golden pot. Maybe, Ravyn thought amused, this book would confirm if her theory was right. She retrieved it from the side and flipped it to the first page titled  _ A Brief Introduction. _

 

**_‘As the title suggests this book will contain a beginning explanation of the customs and etiquette one should follow while in Asgard. Unlike many books of this kind, this particular one will be written for the understanding of the adult instead of the child. Up until recently, it was largely thought by most Asgardians (in high society at least) that people were raised with the knowledge of what was appropriate or not. However, after quite a massive misunderstanding between Asgard and Alfheim this idea has been re-evaluated._ **

**_‘It was discovered that while all Asgardians know small details about etiquette, only the upper and part of the middle class know the full extent of the information that you will read within these pages. The lower class, as well as other realms, were found to have a weaker knowledge of how things are supposed to happen in the great city of Asgard. For this reason, I have decided to publish this guide as a metaphorical bridge for those needing to know the basics without the condescending wording of a child’s book._ **

**_‘In the first official chapter I will explain a watered down version of Asgard’s history. It is important to know how this great city was formed before you can learn about its’ practices. This will perhaps give you a better understanding of why the society of Asgard is the way that it is. Now, it is important to note that because this book is meant for the older reader that I will not be sugarcoating these past events. Asgard has many dark secrets in the past and even some still today that contribute to how it functions. Be warned that it is likely you’ll be surprised by what you read. ‘_ **

 

Now that was a little odd. Dark secrets? Although, Ravyn wasn’t completely surprised. It seemed that most places, especially those with monarchies, tended to be a bit corrupt. Midgard was the same way, but many refused to admit that their ancestors deeds were less than honorable. Maybe the standard result for every new civilization’s greed for power was violence and debauchery. 

 

**_‘Chapter One: A Long, Long Time Ago_ **

**_‘Before the universe was how we know it to be today, it was nothing. No stars, no moons, no planets, nothing. This nothing is referred to as_** **_Ginnungagap. It is not known how or why, but over time the first two worlds were to form. Sitting apart from each other on opposite sides of this void were Muspelheim and Niflheim.  Niflheim was the northern world of cloud and shadow that held the fountain of Hvergelmir that divided into twelve rivers of ice. The southern world, Muspelheim, was the home to elemental fire, and had molten rivers flowing through it._**

**_‘The forces of these worlds slowly crept out until they collided together in the center of Ginnungagap. Ymir, God of Giants, was born in this collision when northern ice was melted by the flame from the south. Legends say that all frost giants are descended from Ymir. The remaining ice from the north was licked away by Ymir’s cow until it created the first Asgardian, from which all men were created. It is unsure how many generations had passed until the god Odin and his two brothers Vili and Ve were born._ **

**_‘The three together decided they would strike Ymir down after a long hatred between them had formed. Their goal was successful, but only at the loss of Vili and Ve. Mourning the death of his brothers, Odin used the body of the fallen giant to create the worlds of Yggdrasil, or the tree of life. Only after completing Midgard as a home for mortal men did Odin decide to create a place for the Aesir. Asgard was formed, and Odin was crowned the King and Alfather for his deeds._ **

**_‘Although this theory was never confirmed by Odin himself, there is a moderate amount of evidence to suggest it is not completely legend. First of all, there is no written documents known today that site a previous king being known before Odin. This means that he has been in rule of Asgard for milenna. There are no living generations alive to disprove this either since the vast majority of Aesir are not, in fact, immortal. That is a common misconception among other realms that comes from Asgardians’ augmented lifespan. They may live longer than other races, but they do go through the same life cycle as all other creatures. The only way for an Aesir to gain what is thought to be true immortality is to consume an Apple of Idunn. Odin was the first to ever consume an Apple of Idunn, but we shall further discuss this in the next chapter._ **

**_‘After the slaying of Ymir, it was no surprise that the frost giants were hostile towards the Asgardians. Odin feared this would divide the nine realms into chaos, ultimately leading to them falling once more into Ginnungagap. To ease the frost giants anger, the Alfather travelled to Jotunheim and married a beautiful giantess named Yrsa. Having a Jotun as the queen of Asgard immediately quelled the dispute between worlds. It stayed this way until Yrsa became pregnant with Odin’s first son, Balder and both mother and child died during childbirth. The Jotun’s were outraged by the death of their beloved Yrsa, and believed Odin was the one who killed them in order not to bare the shame of siring a half-born._ **

**_‘It is important to know that Odin was not always the wise and diplomatic ruler he is today. During the beginning of his rule is truely when he became a god not to be reckoned with.’_ **

  
  


Begrudgingly, Ravyn had to admit how interesting that first chapter was so far. She assumed it would just be a condescending tomb of sexist rules about nobility that read about as well as a math textbook. Instead she found herself being drawn in by the story being told. It was so similar, yet so different to the versions she had poured over at home. What struck her the most odd was that in the tales she was used to Yrsa was never married to Odin. Not only that, but she was never mentioned once in any of the stories. If the other parts of the legends were the same, how could they have missed such a large detail?

 

**_‘Odin did not love Yrsa, but he did not hate her either. She was a good wife who was to bare him a first born son, which was really all a king could ask for. However, he could not stand the allegations being made against him and his unborn child. The frail body of Balder was extracted from his mother and buried under a great white ash so Odin could forever have a place to mourn his lost son. A hatred for the giants took hold and the Alfather took it upon himself to send them a most gruesome warning. Upon the snowy cliffs of Jotunheim, he placed the body of Yrsa impaled upon a spike. Her head had been detached from the body and in its place the great head of a boar was sewed. A metaphorical symbol to show that they were monsters._ **

**_‘The threat of war loomed over Asgard after that, and it was painfully obvious they would not be successful if an attack was to take place. They were just too underdeveloped to be protected from an outside invasion. Therefore, with the help of his personal advisor and master engineer, Odin first put forth the Slavery Act. This happened in two parts. The first part consisted of one adult Aesir from each family being taken to work on the walls around Asgard. This did not work as well as they all hoped since the adults did not follow directions well. Because of that, the second part consisted of instead taking younger children from other realms to do this work. The children were much easier to control and were able to complete the walls quicker than anyone expected. With slaves to work on the city, the Aesir were free to study other areas to rapidly advance Asgard to what it is today. Unfortunately, slavery didn’t end there, but when Odin married his second wife, Queen Frigga, she convinced him to let half of the slaves become servants instead._ **

**_‘The frost giants left Asgard alone when they saw how fast the Aesir were advancing. However, after Queen Frigga gave birth to Prince Thor, they did launch an attack on Midgard. Odin came to the rescue of the mortals and fought the Jotun’s back off to their homelands. This angered a lot of citizens who thought it was ridiculous to get involved in another realm’s war because one man said they must. To ease the populous, the council of elders was created to represent the wishes of Asgard’s people.’_ **

 

The water had warmed in the time it had taken Ravyn to finish the first chapter. Her skin felt pruned after the long soaking it had done. Draining the tub, she got out and wrapped a grey towel around her body. Once she left the bathroom she noticed that the heat had at least become a bit more bearable. By the look of the sky it seemed to be late afternoon. If time was actually going to move while she read then there was no point not to read another chapter, right? 

Ravyn let the towel drop to the floor near the wardrobe, replacing it with a simple linen garment that the seamstresses had her wear during her fitting. It was nowhere near glamorous, but it was probably the thinnest thing she had at the moment. Uncaring of her wet hair, Ravyn plopped down on the edge of the bed. Small droplets beaded off it and onto the duvet where they pooled together to make a growing damp circle. She hardly noticed because as soon as she sat her back against the headboard, her nose was buried in the next chapter. 

 

**_‘Chapter Two: The Class System_ **

**_‘In layman's terms, the class system of Asgard divides society up into several different ranks. These ranks often determine a person’s title, wealth, and occupation. It is highly important to know the differences between classes in order to call them by the correct title. Calling someone by the incorrect title, or no title at all, is considered taboo and extremely disrespectful. If done to someone of a higher status, punishment may be involved. The only acception to that rule is if you’re addressing a family member or close friend._ **

**_‘At the top of the list we have the royal family. As the leaders of Asgard they should be held with the highest level of respect. Therefore, their titles are more important than anyone else on this list. The king and queen must only be referred to as your majesty or grace. You may also use sire, but only after addressing them with the correct title. If referring to them in conversation with someone you must call them the king/queen, or King Odin and Queen Frigga. This is similar to what you refer to the princes as. Sire also applies to the princes, but only if they are first addressed with your royal highness and occasionally your majesty._ **

**_‘Right under the royal family is the upper class. These are usually those of extreme wealth who are connected to the royal family in some way. These people can be lords of different Asgardian holds, members of the Council of Elders, honored warriors, and other royals of the nine realms. If their official title is Lord, that is exactly what you must call them. Otherwise, men should be referred to as sir or master. On the other hand, women are always called Lady or My Lady even if they are not members of a noble house. Typically, those who reside in the palace and are not workers of some kind will fall into this category._ **

**_‘Unlike the first two classes, the middle class has very few restrictions. They are the guards, merchants, slavers, and shop owners of Asgard, and therefore control mostly what is brought in and out of the cities. Corruption is very common. Since they are not as much in the public eye, but they have a comfortable amount of wealth, it’s much easier for them to get away with things that others could not. Being on the fine line between lower and upper class, many in this group take offense if not at least being called sir, or ma’am in a formal setting. However, punishments for not doing so are not enforced._ **

**_‘It is thought that the next class is the lowest level there is, but that is incorrect. The lower class, also known as the working class, are those who do the things other people do not. They are paid little for being maids, farmers, or assistants and are unlikely to ever gain higher social standing. The only exception is if one is particularly gifted in some way or another, they may be able to earn a scholarship for education._ **

**_‘The slave class is not the same as the lower class. Being in this section no longer qualifies you as a whole person. They are property to their slavers/masters, and must obey their every wish. No pay is earned for whatever work they do, but they are provided with food and shelter. Normally, when picked from the slaver’s port, each individual will be assigned a purpose. These vary widely as you can use a slave for just about anything, but only 3 are classified. The first is a worker slave, which are used for hard physical labor and building. The next is a slave maid. These are very similar to maids in many ways, accept they do not get paid. The last is a bed slave, which is not to be confused with a prostitute. Bed slaves, or Pleasure Workers, are often a luxury item for males in the upper classes. Many disapprove of this faction, but that has done nothing to stop people from purchasing and using them anyway.’_ **

 

Ravyn had to stop reading when she felt the bile rise in her throat. The thought of it all was too nauseating to continue. Magic pricked at her fingertips, begging to be let out with her rage. She threw the book down and quickly walked out onto the balcony, taking large gulps of air as she went. It was not the time nor the place for an outburst. The air was still warm, but less stifling now the sun seemed to finally be in its slow descent. A lazy orange glow illuminated the golden city from as far as the eye could see. It looked breathtaking from so high up, a clever disguise to hide the dark secrets that shaped it. Ravyn glared at it anyway, trying her best to calm herself.

This place was nothing like the stories. Nothing like her fantasy. It was just another corrupt world in a sea of corrupt worlds. Ravyn couldn’t believe she had actually been a little excited about being taken here. Her obsession with mythology had clearly made her delusional to even be remotely alright with being here. She was kidnaped in broad daylight, taken to a world she knows little about, and marked by a man she knows little about. All that and here she was, sitting in her room patiently awaiting for him. This had to be some sort of twisted version of Stockholm Syndrome at best. Either way Ravyn was appalled that she ever thought her home could be subpar to this place. Even if there was still some slavery on Earth, at least it was outlawed in most countries. People who participated in it were at least criminals, unlike here where they are just wealthy. 

A drop of red splattered against the white marble railing unnoticed. A second escaped Ravyn’s attention as well, landing almost perfectly atop the first. The drops fell until it was no longer possible to ignore the pungent copper smell that drifted through the summer air. She turned her head slightly to investigate and felt a wet patch form on her hand. Her ivory skin tainted with a trail of red. The trail followed her as she walked to the full length mirror in the room to examine herself.  A line a blood dripped from her nose to the pure white linen of her dress. 

Clearly,  Ravyn was getting too worked up about this. She needed to calm herself down before something happened...  _ again _ . If she didn’t then best case she would pass out, only to wake up with a migraine on the floor hours later. At worst she would black out and do gods know what. She needed to be home. Ravyn knew what to do at home when her emotions got the best of her and her magic just ached to be set free. Here there was no telling what could happen. 

A gentle breeze came in through the open doors, causing the hefty curtains to sway. Ravyn’s eyes were drawn to the movement only to focus on the city beyond them. From there she could see the bifrost where she first arrived on this foreign world. The place where she was greeted with the smiling face of Heimdall. Perhaps he would help her if she would get to him? One final look at the winding city and Ravyn’s mind was set. She was leaving this wretched place behind and forgetting all about these horrible “norse gods”. The first thing she had to do, was make it out of the palace. 

It didn’t take much concentration for her to alter her appearance to something a little less bloody. A shimmering mist surrounded her body, making Ravyn shiver slightly. When her magic dissipated she was left with a rather elegant green gown. It was something she remembered seeing around the mid 1300’s on a rare outing with her caretakers. At the time it was the most beautiful thing she had ever seen on a person. Despite the laced back, it felt rather loose compared to most corset dresses, and allowed her to move freely. The sleeves were made with a slightly translucent material that hung down until it reached the tops of her feet. All along the front was delicate silver embroidery Ravyn couldn’t believe she remembered. She hoped that it would be a suitable dress since she wasn’t exactly the best clothing designer in the world. 

As soon as her appearance was in check, Ravyn practically flew out the door into the long corridors. Her gait was brisk, but unhurried in order to not look suspicious. Not that it mattered though, since the only people she came across were servants who walked with their eyes cast down. After passing through the decorated wing her room had been in the walls became much less recognizable. Things started to blend together and the halls became a never ending labrinth at every turn. She tried once to start back from her room, only to find that the way back was as lost to her as the way forward. 

The same moment that Ravyn began to panic, she heard the faint sounds of people in the distance. She scrambled towards the sound, desperate for some sort of direction. The closer she got, the more she could hear. It was not just the sounds of people talking, but also those of metal being hit. A blacksmith, perhaps? A right down the next hall and relief flooded through her veins. A large doorway gave way to the clear purple skies above Asgard. At last! She must have stumbled upon a back door of the castle. Maybe it was something used by the servants and staff. Either way, she didn’t care as she practically ran towards it. 

However, the sight she found when she reached the opening was not what she expected. Instead of a well worn path out of the palace she was met with a grassy open clearing surrounded by more stone walls. Several targets were mounted around the sides and in the middle a few people were sparring with metal swords. Ravyn felt like crying in frustration. How could she have possibly managed to stumble upon the training grounds instead of an exit? There was only a matter of time until someone realized she was gone and came looking for her. Ravyn didn’t have time to keep wandering around. She had to get out of here. 

Before she had a chance to turn back the way she had came, a familiar voice called to her attention. 

“Lady Ravynia! So you’ve decided to join us after all. What a splendid surprise this is!” The loud muscular prince bound towards her with a charming grin. It took a second for her to remember exactly who he was, but when she did a fake smile of her own became plastered to her face. This was not what she needed right now. 

“Ah, Prince Thor. It is a pleasure to see you again.” Ravyn tried her best to curtsy while she wracked her brain for a way to get out of this. 

“I was starting to worry that my brother was going to keep you all to himself. It would be a shame to keep such beauty hidden away in the castle after all.” Ravyn laughed nervously at the complement, no longer quite as charmed by him as she was before. 

“Of course not, your... majesty. The Prince has just me very busy today is all.” She said with a slight pause as she remembered the correct title. 

“Has he now?” Thor mused lightly. “Well, worry not My Lady. Now that you are here you need not worry about my little brother. Let me show you around the grounds.”

“Well actually, I was supposed to pick up a few things from the city. I must have gotten lost trying to find where to go.” Ravyn was almost surprised how quickly the lie was able to roll off her tongue. Although, the practice she had from growing up made it almost second nature. 

“You’re leaving the palace? At this hour?”

“Well...yes, I was hoping to.” Surely he didn’t see through her lie. Did he? 

“Nonsense! It’s far too dangerous for a pretty face like yours to be wandering the streets so late in the day. I don’t know what my brother was thinking.” That statement  irked her for some reason. 

“Excuse me, but I am perfectly capable of taking care of myself. I’m not some defenseless creature who needs to rely on men to protect me, certainly not Prince Loki.” 

Thor was silent and Ravyn thought for a second that she had been a little too assertive. This was a prince after all. She was sure he could get her in a lot of trouble if he wanted to. Instead a bout of laughter was heard from where the sparring had previously occurred. 

“You should know better than to assume a woman cannot fight, Thor! I’ve knocked you on your ass more times than I can recall!” A woman hollered from across the field. The group of men beside her roared with laughter and Thor himself joined them. 

“Quite the feisty one, aren’t you? I see why my brother likes you so much. Lady Sif is right, though. I shouldn’t have assumed you could not fight. Come now, I’ll introduce you to the warriors three and you can show me exactly how well you can take care of yourself.” 

Ravyn had no time to object before Thor looped an arm around her shoulder and was guiding her towards the others. The closer she got, the father away her chance of escape became. There was no way she was going to be able to cut this socialization short. Thor parked her in front of three men and one woman, all clad in personalized armors. 

“Lady Ravynia, this is Lady Sif, Fandral, Hogun, and Volstagg.” Thor gestured to the group without really specifying which was which. At least it was easy enough to figure out which one Sif was. “Everyone, this is Lady Ravynia, my brother’s guest.” It was difficult not to let her face sour at her makeshift title. 

“Ah yes, I heard about this one.” The blonde haired man stepped toward her with interest. “You’re the talk of the city at the moment…. I can see why.” 

“Leave the poor girl alone, Fandral. Isn’t it enough she has to wear Loki’s mark? She doesn’t need you making her uncomfortable as well.” Sif chided. Ravyn was liking her more and more. 

“His mark? So it’s true?” Fandral asked as all eyes snapped to her arm. Ravyn tugged at her sleeves, trying to hide the golden bangle she could not get rid of. 

“I could hardly believe it myself when I first found out, but alas it is true! Who knew my little brother had such great taste?” Thor gave her a light pat on the back. 

“I am not some plaything for a prince. I am here to study magic. No more, no less. Do not talk about me like I am some lowborne whore.” Ravyn’s anger was wavering once more. 

“I do not think you are a lowborne whore, My Lady. I think you are a highborne one,” Fandral remarked casually. “There’s nothing wrong with that though. Gods know we all love to have a bit of fun. I just wish your master would share.” 

“How dare-” Ravyn was cut off by Sif, who sounded just as outraged.

“Fandral, you pig! How could you say something like that to her? She might be Loki’s guest, but that still makes her the guest of a Prince, and she deserves to be treated as such!”

“Look, I mean no offense, My Lady,” Fandral began again. “But I just have a hard time believing someone with looks like yours is here to study magic. Especially under the prince.” 

“Believe it or not, that is what I’m here to do.” 

“I bet 5 gold coins Fandral is right.” This was the first time one of the other men spoke up. The ginger haired Volstagg came to stand next to Fandral. His beefy frame looked massive compared to the blonde warrior. The others remained silent as Thor looked between them, unsure of what exactly to do. 

“Well, we are in the training grounds. What better place could there be for Lady Ravynia to display her talents?” Normally, Ravyn would have brushed Thor’s statement off, but she was having a very hard time containing herself. It was a wonder she hadn’t at the very least started bleeding again. Perhaps she could use this as an opportunity to relieve her magic of some of this tension since it didn’t look like she would be leaving anytime soon. 

“Alright, I accept your bet.” They all turned to Ravyn confused. “However, I will have no remorse for whatever injuries I may inflict.” 

“Injuries? I don’t think so.” Fandral began to walk away from them towards where he had left his weapons earlier. “If you really want to spar with me I shall allow it, but I don’t think my morals would let me humiliate yourself like that-”

Before Fandral could blink Ravyn had teleported in front of him with a small ebony dagger and lodged it into his side. He let out a yelp in pain, doubling over while Ravyn casually walked back to the spot she disappeared from. She held her palm flat in front of Volstagg’s face and he numbly shuffled around in his pockets before producing a few coins. They vanished the moment they touched her hand.

Looking at the dumbfounded expressions around her made her smirk and once more let her magic surround her. The sage dress she was wearing morphed into a set of dark green leather armor. It fit so snugly against her body that from afar it was hard to tell whether her pants and shirt were connected or not. She wasn’t even 100% sure. Ravyn would never admit it to anyone, but she got the idea of it from a comic book villain a few years ago. Even then it was hard for her to tell if the character was in a bodysuit or not. 

“So…”Ravyn trailed off for effect. “Who’s next?” 

An authoritative voice called out from the entrance, it’s owner’s sleek black hair just touching his shoulders. 

“Me.”


End file.
